Five Years Happening
by Alsc Petrelli Winchester Stark
Summary: The bomb went off that fateful day in New York because no one knew it was going to happen. Our heroes had to deal with the fallout. There is no where left to run, nowhere to hide. When all options are taken away from them, all there is left to do... is fight. A species prerogative is to survive, after all, they are only human. "Five Years Gone" Canon.
1. 2006-2007: The Aftermath

I'M ALIVE!

So, here's an idea I thought up while watching (rewatching) one of my favorite series. Please enjoy! I don't know what I'm gonna do with it yet.

This work has been researched extensively and is as true to canon as a fanfiction can be. It is the events of the "Five Years Gone" Universe before Hiro traveled back in time. Multiple sources were used.

But it is a fan interpretation.

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

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November 8th, 2006.

The day it happened was the epitome of fear and absolute terror.

The minute the bomb went off, the entire city shook. It was as though the buildings themselves were giving a collective scream of grief at the destruction that tore through their streets. Nothing could stop it and no one was spared. Rich, poor; men, women or children, it did not matter.

All men are equal in death.

When the blastwave finally dissipated, all that was left in its wake was unbridled chaos. Buildings collapsing, roads completely disintegrated. The city on fire.

Everyone screaming.

For mercy.

God did not answer their pleas.

Frantic mothers searching for their lost children. Those unlucky few who had been caught at the tail end of the radiation were left with horrible scars and unfathomable pain. Some were lucky and died right then and there. Others were forced to lay and wait for death to come with its merciful embrace, saving them from a life of unimaginable pain.

Of fear.

New York was in ruins and only one man was to blame.

The exploding man.

The painting which haunted Isaac Mendez until the end of his days. The painting of an unaverted apocalypse which was forever immortalized on his apartments floor. The painting of New York ablaze. No one could have stopped it, because no one saw it coming. Those that did decided it was necessary to 'save the world', seeing themselves as humanitarians.

The reality was so much harsher.

The day after the bomb went off in Kirby Plaza was the day the entire world learned to fear those who were 'special', the ones known only as 'Evos'. Nathan Petrelli, recently elected Congressman of New York had announced their existence, their involvement in the bombing. Of the man named Sylar who had brought the once great city to its knees. The exploding man was an Evo and the entire world was in uproar.

How could someone be so powerful? How could one being cause so much destruction? How could one man?

Then, someone leaked the FBI's secure files on the man only known as 'Sylar.' The same man who was said to have caused the downfall of New York. Pictures of his victims, their heads mutilated and brains exposed, some taken completely, was enough to make the world recoil in horror and disgust.

There were few doubters after that.

No one took into fact Evos had died that day alongside the normals. Among them were Micah Sanders and Ando Masahashi, two key figures in the role of destiny.

The destiny now broken.

Their deaths broke two of the most influential people in the inevitable rebellion.

A few months after the explosion, a fear began to kindle inside the heart of even those who supported the Evos. If one could destroy half of a city, what would another do? Headed by Nathan Petrelli, the Linderman Act was soon put into place in the middle of 2007. The few who questioned outwardly whether or not it was connected to the mobster in Las Vegas were quickly silenced. It was a registration act for all those with special abilities, a curfew imposed upon them and civil liberties taken through political wording that it was all to 'help them.' At first everything was going smoothly.

Then people started disappearing. Slowly at first. But gradually increased until it was no longer able to be hidden. Evos started to go into hiding, but it wasn't enough.

A year later, it was as if martial law had been passed. The Linderman Act was prosecuted to its fullest extent and those who did not comply were imprisoned within a facility only known about through rumours. Through hearsay.

No one who was taken there ever came back.

The Moab Federal Penitentiary.

A special division of Homeland Security was created, growing from 'The Company.' It was led by one Matthew Parkman to help with these 'detainees.' An evo with the ability to read people's thoughts. The gift of telepathy and the curse. He was the perfect interrogator. The perfect search dog.

Others joined him. The Haitian, Rene, was amongst the first. A woman by the name of Elle Bishop and many others with powers soon followed. All trying to make the world a better place. All trying to save it, some with darker reasons than others.

In the end, they were all hypocrites.

Betrayers of their own kind.

The resistance was growing everyday to counteract them. Labelled as terrorists, what else could they do to battle the injustice?

Cause even more terror, though at first unintentionally.

Led by Peter Petrelli and Hiro Nakamura, they were practically unstoppable.

Our story picks up outside of Houston, Texas where one of those individuals is standing in the ever-fading sunlight. Echoing the words of a long deceased man as he fingered the hilt on his back.

"We have to stop it."

Another figure appeared next to him, if you had blinked you would have missed it. "Stop what?"

"Everything."

But it would take years to put the plan into place, to map out the past. All they could do, was wait.

Waiting was never an option.

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	2. 2007: The Resistance

Almost every character you will see in this story is from Heroes Canon. Some are from the comic books, others from the videogames. But there will rarely, if ever, be an OC in this story.

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

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Odessa was cold at this time of year. Frost covered the ground, making it sparkle in the iridescent light. Footsteps covered every line of sight for miles, pressed into the frozen grass. Some going farther than others, while a select few seemed to disappear in the middle as though they were made by a corporeal ghost.

If one looked closely, you could see a set of indentations slowly making their way up a morose looking hill with withered tree standing at its peak. Underneath the tree there stood a Japanese man, looking out over the devastation that had recently been caused by one of their own. Earth was raptured, leaving behind scar la hundreds of feet deep and as wide as a full-grown man. There were trees uprooted in every direction, as if a great wind had torn through the valley, knocking down everything in its path.

The devastation could have been worse, the man reflected as a sigh dragged out of his lungs. Sparrow rarely lost control anymore, but when she did, she left fissures in the earth that were impossible to cover. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if staving off an inevitable migraine.

Peter wasn't any better.

But Peter wasn't a scared nineteen year old girl working through the deaths of her family and on the run from the government.

... Well, he was on the run. They all were.

None of them would win any beauty contests in the meantime, that was for sure. Every member of the resistance was covered in a fine layer of soil or dust, courtesy of the sheepish looking Native American girl who was having trouble with control. No one had it in their hearts to be mad at her, though.

They'd all been there.

Sparrow Redhouse was the most recent recruit to their small rebellion. She had been saved by the Japanese man, Hiro Nakamura in New York, having been out past the curfew superimposed by the Linderman Act. She had decided to join their ragtag group of rebels with no prodding, criticizing the current government to anyone who was willing to listen. It wasn't as if anyone would argue.

Others were with them. But for very only person in the resistance, there were ten in Homeland Security.

The war had just started, and they were losing.

"We shall stop here for rest. Everyone be ready in case we must disappear quickly." Hiro spoke, his tone allowing no argument. Not that anyone would. The only other person in charge was Peter Petrelli, and he wasn't here. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief. They had been walking for days without rest and their faces were haggard from the journey. Some of their eyes held nightmares that could last a lifetime.

Abigail Lee, from London, had seen her entire family murdered in front of her; including her fiancee. Her ability was the creation of forcefields, purely offensive. Purely used for protection. Her family was completely innocent, here for a vacation when the Linderman Act was put into place. A week later, they were dead and Abigail was backed into a corner with no way out.

Until she ripped open the Company men who murdered her family using her power. When she caused forcefields to appear inside their bodies, it was instinct. She never wanted to be a killer. She didn't have a choice.

It was natural selection; the strong survive.

This world made her that way.

Luke Campbell was standing beside her looking for all intent and purpose like a watchdog keeping an eye on their family members. His ability was completely defensive, being that he could 'microwave' anything around his person in a short burst of energy from his hands. When his mother found out he was an Evo, she had kicked him out of the house, screamed at him that he was a freak. Yelled to everyone that he wasn't her son.

He couldn't control it and killed her on the spot, along with two Homeland Security agents who she had called to take him in.

Claude Rains, the invisible man from New York had shot the two agents tearing Molly Walker away from her caretakers. He had gotten her to safety, but lost an eye in the process. He wouldn't tell anyone how and Molly was as silent as a grave. She hadn't spoken for months and when she did, it was only to tell them when the people after them were too close and they had to run. She herself had killed one agent with a knife held with shaking hands when he was about to kill her savior, Claude, two months ago. She wouldn't allow that to happen.

It seemed as though everyone in their ragtag group had killed.

Hiro was going to change it all, this reality, but it would take time. Too much time. Time they didn't have, but had to make.

It has been two and a half years since the explosion, but the effects were still hitting them all as if it was yesterday.

"So... when are we gonna hit this prison holding a lot of us?" West Rosen asked, leaning forward in front of the fire created by one Meredith Gordon. She would jump at even the slightest of noises, acting like a startled cat if anyone snuck up behind her. Well, if that cat could throw flaming fireballs out of each hand.

At everyone but Hiro's incredulous look, he shrugged, "What, we were all thinking it. We have to take this fight to them."

West ran from Cost Verde, California. If you wanted to get technical, he flew. It took him weeks to find the group, but when he did it was as if he was always there. West was the glue that helped hold them together.

"But... it's to dangerous! We can't risk it!" Another voice cried out, belonging to Eric Lee Harrison. He might have had the ability to grow or shrink in size, but inside he remained a coward. He did not participate in any of the raids, didn't help out around camp. He was a leech, a parasite. But he was one of them.

"That's bullshit and you know it! At some point we have to stand up for ourselves! Look what complying has done to us, I say we kill every last one of those bastards and make them fear us for a change!" Rachel Mills growled, slamming her fist into the tree she was leaning against. She was a teleporter, able to instantly be in another place only by thinking about it. It had saved her life on multiple occasions. Her teammates weren't so lucky.

Hiro knew that didn't stand a chance. But he and Peter did.

"They already are afraid. Why do you think this is happening to us? Because we all shit rainbows and unicorns?"

Think of the devil and he shall appear.

"It's because we are dangerous. And each and everyone of them knows it." A man simmered and appeared out of thin air, his slicked back hair and pale complexion, darkness cloaking around his figure; making him look like death incarnate. One woman gave a strangled shout, scooting away while others flinched and looked away. Peter had come a long way away from the dreamy kid who came from New York City. The scar across his face was a testament to that.

He evolved.

"And now, we're going to remind them."

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Washington D.C. was where all of the action took place. Political action at least. Nathan Petrelli looked out over the city with an air of self-righteous importance. Every step he had taken, from getting elected to congress to the Linderman Act had all been enacted to get him where he was now.

On the path to the white house.

He was a presidential trial candidate now and the presidency was just ripe for the picking. The public loved and praised him for his honesty, his rivals were terrified of his influence.

Everything was going according to plan and as Nathan sipped his scotch, he practically glowed.

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In the Moab Federal Penitentiary, the screams of those captive and unsedated were enough to haunt any man's nightmares for the rest of their God given lives. Experimentation was what happened to the lucky ones.

The unlucky ones... they were put down in the most animalistic way possible. Even in death they were hated.

But all men are equal in death. New York had taught them that.

Three floors down, there were two hallways. One held non-lethal Evos, the other held persons of interest; those who the government weren't sure had abilities but arrested them under suspicion.

Two doors in, there was a low moaning sound. A sound of pain. Inside the room was a blonde woman, curled up in a fetal position. She made low kerning sounds as though she was a wounded soul or a banshee who had lost her voice.

"Oh God, please help me."

Her face was contorted in pain until it smoothed out, looking as though the woman was accustomed to the agony she was experiencing.

 _"_ Who needs God, when you've got me?"

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Here's the second chapter! Wahoo!


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